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[sjm9876]

((Let's assume everyone else has left now, for a bit of speed.))

[Dwarmin]

((@Sjm: Honestly, we've RPed more than enough time away.

I think you can move us forward in the plot. Me and Kjs interaction does not need be time sensitive ))

[sjm9876]

((In that case, preprepared update!))

You pass the time training and exercising up on the deck for the most part. Although the sailors are at first reluctant to join in, Ironwrit soon makes an appearance, and st the prospect of seeing one of their own fight they soon gain encouragement. Ironwrit himself seems strangely quiet for one so popular, and although he makes appearances at training regularly, armed with flexible plate mail and a greatsword, he rarely makes his presence known elsewhere. he does however remind you that the rune is still on offer, and he has the equipment with him to do it, even if it won’t be the most impressive work he has ever done.
 The sailors themselves, whilst not of military standard, seem quite able fighters, barely flinching from a blow and refusing to concede ground.
 The captain permits Ryxas hold inspection, which reveals no one, and responds to Rylath,
 ‘I hate to be the one to tell you, but it really is just a cloth shipment, as well as a boat ride for our friend Ironwrit. As for why you, well it’s expensive cloth and there’s pirates and other dangers to be had. You were the first to apply.
 
 On the last day of the week training occurred as normal. However, it is interrupted by a cry from the crows nest. Soon a strange ship comes into sight. A galleon of human build, with a red dripping eye emblazoned onto the sails. It sits perfectly still in the water, facing the dwarven ship, barely seeming disturbed by the wind. As soon as you come within hearing range, an amplified yell comes from the opposing ship.
 ‘Ryxa d'l'Myrmidon. Usstan inbal tlus feithin whol dos. Usstan xhandal dos ulu dhyn duucald.’
 The ship closes, and a figure jumps from the elevated prow onto your deck. A tall man, but thin, dressed immaculately in a long coat over embellished leather armour. As he stands, the wind catches his lank black hair and draws it back, revealing the same eye from the sails tattooed onto his forehead.
 ‘Do you accept?’

((And the main chunk of exams is over now so apart from revising for the last couple I should be doing slightly better updates from now on. I hope.))

[Dwarmin]

Ryxa limbers up, swinging her arms.

The Eye. She didn't know him personally. He was a younger member...risen quick and fast. Who could say if it was more skill or luck?

He was supposed to be quick on his feet-or, as others said, he had the prescience to see your blow before it was even swung. She knew he favored the Kane style-developed originally by a legendary Ketheval of the wild Elven Clansmen, from her studies of a similar Dwarven style-it was used for fighting in close quarters with small twin axes, Dwarven aggression paired with Elven Agility. It relied on vertical mobility and powerful sweeping strokes-some of it's practitioners could run straight up walls, clamber the hide of a tree as if it were a knotted rope, or perform prodigious leaps while maintaining their balance and accuracy. In their own estimation, if you bested a foe while you weren't touching the ground, it was a most honorable kill.

He did also enjoy his entrances, that was to be said.

She began running toward him in a blur, sword arced in front of her. She needed to drive him back before he could found his footing. He would be strong on the offense-so she needed to take the initiative, use her power to counter his speed.

"I accept your challenge."

Action: Aggressive attack! Force him back up against the ship railing where he won't have much room to maneuver!

[scapheap]

Clair relax her sword since Ryxa seem to know what was happening "Don't lose a limb."

[sjm9876]

(R11+6)v(E12+5)
You charge, closing the gap between you in moments. You cut through the air, once, twice. Each time the eye twists out of the way just in time. But as you go for a third swing he takes a step back, right up to the barrier, and pushing off it leaps clear over your head.
(E4+4)v(R6+4)
You turn swiftly, your blade ready to defend, only to find the eye standing around a metre from you, ready to guard from your next attack. He grins slightly, his tongue flicking out from between his lips to moisten them and his coat flapping in the wind.
 'And here I though you were skilled.'

[RangerCado]

(just a note, i'm usually on here till midnight but i was really tired last night so sorry. (timezone PDT -0700)

Selina prepares her healing runes (A1 heal and B1 flesh) to heal her companion. She also keeps a hand on her dagger, just in case. "Don't fall for his taunts, his ugly face is distraction enough!" Selina yells.

[Dwarmin]

Ryxa did not usually bother with mid-battle banter, from anyone.

So instead of answering him, she launched another flurry of attacks as he began to speak. She was analyzing his footwork...looking for a weak spot...all she needed was one good hit...

Now to find it.

Action: Don't respond to taunts at all, continue to attack with no pause. Attack in a more measured response-continue to drive him back steadily. Try to get a blow on his weakest looking leg if I can. Force him to expend more energy dodging than I do attacking.

[sjm9876]

You continue to attack without pause.
(R5+6)v(E6+5)
The eye dances backwards, slipping past every blow. At the last possible moment of the flurry, he ducks to the side, and your blade buries itself in the mast, although it does trace a thin line on his arm before hand. he looks at the wound, disconcerted, and takes a step or two back, before looking back at you, eyes wide with anger.
(R9-2)
As he moves for you, you try to wrench the blade free from the wood. Then some unforeseen instinct tells you to duck as the ribbons of Mru'shkanes crosspiece wrap themselves around your wrist, the runes on them glowing red. You hear a whistle as an axe passes over your head, and a thus as it embeds itself in the mast next to your sword, which is itself knocked lose.

[Dwarmin]

Ryxa's eye was cold, and her aim was steady.

He could choose to lose a hand, or lose his axe.

A binary decision.

Action: Hack at the wrist thats connected to hand thats connected to the axe thats connected to the mast.

One of them has to come off!

[sjm9876]

(R8+6)v(E10+5)
As you swing at the eyes wrist, he lets go of the axe, the blade whistling through thin air..
(E6+4)v(R10+4)
He reacts with violence, swinging his other axe, although you step aside with ease. He pants, arms hanging low after the swing, as you thrust forward.
(R8+6)v(E6+5)
Your blade passes into his shoulder, and out of the other side without resistance.
(E8)
He clutches his hand to the wound, stumbling back but remaining conscious. His axe drops to the ground, and he looks up, true fear in his eyes.

((Minor changes to the bleeding system - certain wounds start with a number of tokens so severed wounds etc.... can't stop bleeding immediately, and the penalties detriment all rolls))

[Dwarmin]

Ryxa withdraws her sword cleanly, and flows back into guard as smoothly as if she had just cut a bamboo pole.

She prepares the executioners slice. To split open his belly, cut off his head, or cut him down by his knees-depending on where he's standing at the moment.

"I only ask once. Yield. Or die."

Action: Kill him, if his answer is anything but 'I yield', or if he goes for his weapon.

[sjm9876]

'I......I yield. Just let me get back to my ship.'

[Dwarmin]

Ryxa could feel the familiar tingle of magic working on the tattoo on her arm-though, it was more in response to his, than any change on her part. She had defended her title, and for at least a week, the blood red numbers on her arm would be steel grey...she would be immune to challengers, yet could challenge herself-if she did so and won, it would turn to gold, for a time-compared to the bright silver glow of having merely won a challenge you set. It would eventual fade back to a bloody red, as always.

She was prepared to relent...but she saw something, just beyond her sight.

Ryxa did not trust in omens and visions, only her own skills and senses. And yet, she knew the man across from her would be capable of bringing this to pass. It was perhaps his reason for rising so quickly. He would be cast out of the Order, if anyone found out he had attacked her so dishonorably after their match...which was perhaps why he had waited till she was as sea to strike.

Her decision was made in a moment. Her senses had told her it was a genuine vision...perhaps from the blade itself. And in any case, she did not terribly like him as a person. His life was in her hands.

She opened her palm, and let him fall.

"...I changed my mind." she comments idly, as if on the weather.

Mru’shkane fluttered toward the mans midsection, slicing the air in visible waves, like the snipping scissors of the three sisters fate.

Action: Fatality!

[kj1225]

((Do I assume I was wherever I wanted to be?))